Desert Secrets
by Kimmeth
Summary: Nothing is ever really what it seems, especially when love is involved. What happened after the finale...GuyxMarian, DjaqxWill. Grammar, spelling and most of the overly-anachronistic speech has now been corrected... NOW COMPLETE!
1. Deception

_Desert Secrets_

For the Good Ship GuyxMarian. God bless her and all who sail in her.

_Disclaimer:_ Characters belong to the Beeb.

_Chapter One_

_Deception_

A dark figure stole silently through the streets of Acre, pausing only occasionally to melt into the shadows, avoiding the curfew patrollers who wandered casually down the streets. They didn't usually anticipate much trouble, and the dark figure was quite happy to leave it that way.

At last he reached his destination and knocked softly, constantly throwing glances back over his shoulder. The cool night air of the desert pricked up the hair at the back of his neck, causing an involuntary shiver to shoot down his spine. He raised his hand to knock again, perhaps his first had been too quiet and had gone unnoticed, but then the door opened to the sleepy cooing of hundreds of doves. A face appeared in the crack, wary and suspicious.

"_Ahlsalam a'alakum_," said the dark stranger in greeting, removing the black scarf from round his face to reveal a pale, English complexion. "I am here to see your visitors. My name is Guy of Gisborne."

The wary face disappeared back into the house.

"Safiyah, Will," it called. "Are you expecting a visitor?"

The reply was inaudible, but then Djaq's face appeared at the door. She opened it wider with a half-smile of recognition.

"Come in," she said.

Guy entered gratefully and unwound the scarf completely.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Nearly."

She returned to her potions, brewing and bubbling steadily over the small fire crackling in the grate.

Will watched Guy closely from the corner of the room, the suspicion etched into his face.

"Just so you're aware," he said coolly, "we're doing this for Marian. Not you."

"I know," replied Guy on an equal tone. It was clear that nothing either man could do would ever allow them to trust each other. It was more principle than true suspicion now.

"Are the horses ready?" asked Djaq, perhaps a little louder than necessary in order to purposefully break the tension in the room.

"Yes," said Guy, although he did not take his eyes from Will and the atmosphere remained as icy as the air out in the desert.

"Then we're ready too." Djaq packed her bag and they made to leave.

"How long are you going to be?" asked Bassam, who had remained unnoticed at the door.

"As long as it takes," replied Djaq, a certain sense of foreboding very apparent in her voice.

XXX

Wrapping her scarf over her face against the desert dust as they set off at a gentle and near-silent trot, Djaq reflected upon just how they had found themselves in their situation. It had been Marian who had initiated it, arriving at the camp late one night whilst Djaq had been on her watch.

"_I need your help," she said. "I need to disappear."_

At first, Djaq had refused, point blank. She couldn't go against Robin so fully and so blatantly. Yet the more she had thought about it, the more she had come to see it from Marian's point of view. The poor girl had experienced enough trauma and enough lies in past months to make her covet something that was hers, something not shrouded in deception, something that wasn't complicated. It was ironic that to achieve such a something required the most complicated and most tragic deception of all. As Djaq's own feelings towards Will had developed, so she had begun to understand Marian's feelings and decided to help her, no matter the consequences.

_Love makes fools of us all,_ she thought.

Will had noticed the amount of time that Marian and Djaq managed to spend together, plotting and whispering and, of all people, Djaq couldn't deceive Will. So she'd brought him in on the plan, and his expertise had proved invaluable in the end.

Coming to the Holy Land had been a blessing in disguise, the perfect place to bring the deception to a close. They'd never planned for it to end this way, but everything had just happened to slip into place so perfectly. All it had taken were a few whispered words, a coded message to the necessary people and a slipped draught. It had been mercifully, yet scarily, simple to execute.

Djaq looked up at Guy, leading the trail. He'd had to make sacrifices too. He'd given up everything he'd held dear, everything he'd worked for and all he'd ever believed in, and he'd run the risk of falling on the wrong side of the Sheriff. Djaq had to give him some respect for that, but she couldn't help thinking that his side of the arrangement was a lot simpler and more comfortable than Marian's. There had been some flaws in the plan – no one could have anticipated when or where Robin, Allan or the Sheriff might have intervened, albeit unknowingly.

But, so far, everything was on track, even if there had been a few glitches along the way. As the double grave of Carter and Marian loomed high on the horizon, Djaq prayed that their careful planning wouldn't have failed at this late stage. From the way the men were riding their horses – stiff and almost cautious - she could tell that they held exactly the same fears.

They worked quickly through the sand, no one daring to speak until a spade hit something solid.

"Here goes," said Will, barely above a whisper. He jumped into the hole and took one last look at his handiwork before splintering the wood with a swift, clean axe blow.

Will thought that it was the best casket he'd ever made, and he felt a twinge of sadness as he hacked away at the lid. It was all slats and latticework, very pretty in its own right considering he'd assembled it in just a couple of short hours, but also practical in that it was arranged in such a way as to allow what little air there was to circulate without the sand getting in. He had insisted to Robin that Marian should have a proper coffin and thankfully, Robin had agreed, otherwise she would have certainly died from the sheer pressure of the sand on her body.

He finally cleared away all the wood and lifted her body up to Guy before climbing out of the hole himself. He prepared to fill it in again, but Djaq stopped him.

"If it hasn't worked, we shall need to bury her again." It was not something that she had wanted to say, but it had to be said.

Marian lay on the sand, the mulberry stain that had spread over the white dress now congealed and blackened. Djaq checked the wound beneath it.

"It hasn't become infected but it hasn't begun to heal either. The stitches may not hold."

She dripped the antidote into Marian's slightly parted lips and for a moment, no one breathed. Then, finally, with a gasp and a splutter, Marian came to life before their eyes.

"Djaq?" she croaked. "Did it work?"

"You're here now," said Djaq, unable to hide her smile of pure relief. "I think that means it worked."

"Guy?" she reached out with a shaking hand, which he caught and held.

"Welcome back," he whispered.

"Quick," said Will. "We've got to fill the grave in before someone comes along and realises what we've done."

Guy gave Marian's hand a reassuring squeeze and tore himself away from her to help Will and Djaq fill in the hole. He didn't want to leave her side for a second, not after all the torment he'd been through in the past days, not knowing whether his act had killed her or whether she was sleeping safely under the sands. However, he felt it courteous to help, especially after all that Will and Djaq had done for him.

"Will," said Marian. "I haven't spoken to you yet. Thank you."

"You shouldn't talk," said Will by way of reply. "You should save your strength." But he gave her a smile to show that the thanks had not gone unappreciated.

The sun was just peering over the horizon as they rode slowly and steadily back into Acre. Bassam heard them coming before they knocked and ushered them all inside.

"Lay her down," he said to Guy, who carried Marian over the threshold. She was dozing lightly, nestled against his chest with her arms around his neck, weak from her injury and the effect of the potions. She stirred as he laid her down on the cool reed mat.

"Stay with me," she mumbled.

"Of course," he said, sitting next to her and taking her hand. "Nothing can keep us apart now. Everything's going to be all right. Don't worry."

XXX

Will and Djaq waved from the deck of the ship bound for England, like matchsticks compared with the great masts.

"Good luck!" called Marian from the dockside. "And thank you for everything!"

She felt Guy's arm tighten around her waist, and she felt content. There was guilt, of course there was guilt in the back of her mind over the grief that the outlaws and Robin were feeling for her, and that guilt would never truly die. But at that precise moment, in the Holy Land with the man she had married only the day before in Bassam's peripheral garden, she felt happier than she had done for a long time.

"Keep an eye on them Bassam!" called Djaq.

Bassam replied with something as yet incomprehensible to Marian and Guy, but it didn't matter. As the ship became a mere mark on the seascape, they turned back to the town, ready to start a new life together...

Review please!

* * *

_Ahlsalam a'alakum _is Arabic for hello. 

_Extra Disclaimer:_ The idea that Marian and Guy faked her death to be together has been flung about a bit on Livejournal by a few G/M shippers so I can't take full credit for that, but the 'how' and the 'who else was involved' and the 'what happened after' is my idea.


	2. Grief

_Disclaimer:_ Do I have to put one on every chapter? I get sick of them. The disclaimer is on the first chapter. I'm not putting any more on unless the status quo changes.

_A/N: _Guy and Marian aren't in this chapter. :( This focuses on Robin's thoughts. G & M will be back soon, promise!

_Chapter Two_

_Grief_

_Marian stands in a garden full of flowers, vivid pinks and yellows sprouting like jewels from the dusty earth. She wears a dress of the purest and brightest white, so light and luminescent she is almost invisible. Robin moves towards her, he is nearly close enough to touch her when she speaks._

"_I love you," she says, and from the warmth radiating from her smile and through her words he knows it is genuine. He should be happy, but there's something not right. She's not talking to him. She's talking to someone behind him. He tries to turn but he can't, he's rooted to the spot. She's laughing now, high and musical, not unkindly, but Robin doesn't find it funny…_

Robin jerked awake. The same dreamed had plagued him for weeks now. It always played out the same and it always left him feeling uneasy.

"It's just a dream," came Much's voice. Robin sat up and saw his friend surveying him grimly. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

Robin shook his head.

"Something's not right."

"I suppose grief affects us all in different ways." Much sighed heavily. "The others have gone delivering. We let you sleep."

"What? Why?" Robin jumped up, fully awake and alert, groaning inwardly as he saw the sun high in the sky overhead.

"Master, it has to be said, and as always I am the one to have to say it. You haven't been the same since the Holy Land. The second time I mean. You haven't been sleeping or eating well, and frankly we're worried about you."

"And why do you think that is?" asked Robin shortly.

"Master, we understand your loss…"

"No, you don't," Robin snapped back. "You don't understand at all. None of you do."

Much looked at Robin in silence for a few very awkward moments.

"You aren't the only one to have loved and lost," he said finally. "We've all experienced that. Not everything is all about you."

Much made to leave the camp and Robin, struck by the words, made no move to stop him. Much turned back.

"We all miss her. We all want to kill Gisborne. But until we find him we can't, so I suggest you carry on doing what Marian did and what she loved you for. Helping the poor!"

Still Robin said nothing. He sat and listened to the crunching of Much's footsteps in the fallen autumn leaves getting further and further away.

What he had said made chilling sense. Robin replayed the conversation in his head.

"_Grief affects us all in different ways_." True: it made Robin forget his friends and equally his purpose. Since he'd returned from the Holy Land he'd been half-hearted in his efforts to help the villagers, a lacklustre champion of the poor. The Sheriff had resumed his usual reign of terror but Robin had found that he no longer cared. He was no longer frustrated and angered by the injustices of the world. Indeed, he was no longer frustrated and angered by anything much, except his recurring nightmare. He had tried to shake it off, explain it away as the product of a fevered mind, but it was over four months since that fateful day and it was still haunting him night after night.

"_You aren't the only one to have loved and lost_." John had lost Alice. Much had lost Eve. Allan had lost his brother, and to a certain extent, Djaq. And even though they weren't with him, Robin knew that both Will and Djaq had lost loved ones as well. Yet none of them had been so afflicted by it. Somehow they had managed to pick up the pieces and move on with their lives, continuing with the paths they had lain for themselves, remaining strong despite their grief. None of them had been haunted for so long. Whilst it could be argued that Alice and Eve were still alive, the chances of reconciliation were so slim as to be non-existent. Perhaps that made it worse, the knowledge that they were out there, somewhere, yet still lost… Robin realised that he was being selfish in suggesting that they didn't understand his feelings, and he knew he had to make it up to them, the question was how. He'd throw himself into their cause with renewed energy, continue Marian's good work in her memory. After all, she wouldn't want him to just give up, would she? She'd fought for so long and at great cost for what she believed in, what they both believed in, only to have him ignore it.

"_We all want to kill Gisborne. But until we find him, we can't_." There it was, the only other thing that perturbed Robin aside from his dream. Locksley Manor lay empty. It appeared that Gisborne had not returned from the Holy Land with the Sheriff. That was the impression he had received from the villagers' reports. Robin's ship had docked about a week after the one carrying the Sheriff, who had wasted no time in dispensing rough 'justice' in their seven days absence. John had been outraged, Allan and Much dumbfounded at the destruction one man could bring to a shire in such a short space of time. People had begun to lose faith in the outlaws and the Nightwatchman, and with reason. They had worked hard to remedy the situation, whilst quietly spreading the unfortunate news that the Nightwatchman had gone for good.

Yet there was no sign of Gisborne anywhere. No one had seen him, and no one was particularly missing him. It was all a little too strange for comfort.

Robin waited until the others arrived back at the camp, Much carrying a bag of what looked suspiciously like squirrels. He'd spent the day forming and refining his theories and a plan.

"I'm going to Nottingham," he said as they settled themselves down for the evening. "I want to ask the Sheriff where Gisborne is."

"Robin…" began Allan. "I'm not being funny or anything, and don't for a minute think I'm trying to defend him, but won't killing Gisborne make things worse? It'll be a gang thing then, us and the Sheriff picking each other off until there's only one left. Mark my words, if you kill Gisborne he'll come after one of us, I've seen it happen over in…"

"Allan," Robin interrupted before the younger man could get too carried away. "I didn't say I was going to kill him. I didn't even say I was going to go after him. I just want to find out where he is."

"Why?" asked John, and Robin could detect a note of weariness and disbelief in his voice.

"Because if Gisborne is still in the Holy Land then the Sheriff is obviously planning something. Why would he stay there without instruction from the Sheriff?"

"To hide from you," suggested John irritably. "Robin, this theory…"

"He'll be going after the King again," Much cut in.

"That's what I'm afraid of," said Robin gravely. He looked at John, who threw his hands up in defeat.

"Fine. We go to Nottingham. I don't know why I go along with your ideas half the time…"

XXX

"Robin?" whispered Much as they scaled the wall of Nottingham town. "What if the Sheriff doesn't know where Gisborne is?"

"The Sheriff always knows where Gisborne is," said Robin. "Usually because he sent him there."

"But what if he doesn't tell you?" asked Allan. "I'm not being funny or anything, but he's hardly likely to say 'oh yeah, I left him in the Holy Land to try and kill the King AGAIN' if you go waltzing in there yelling 'where's Gisborne?' is he?"

"Allan, don't make it complicated," moaned John. "Let's just get in there, let Robin have his little chat and get out."

They crept along the now well-worn passages to the Sheriff's chamber with ease. The lack of guards surprised them, and perhaps made them a little wary, but no one stopped to ask why.

"I won't be long," said Robin as he slipped into the room.

"Not you again," groaned the Sheriff. "You really should stop getting into bed with me. People will talk."

"Where's Gisborne?" asked Robin.

"I don't know, but when I find him, you'll be the first to know."

"Don't tell me that. You always know where he is."

"Not always, and I certainly don't now. What time is it in the Holy Land? Midnight-ish? I expect he's against a wall with a wench he paid an arm and a leg for, now will you please go away and leave me alone?"

"He's in the Holy Land then."

"I'm assuming he's in the Holy Land. He didn't get the boat back to England with me, and seeing as you're so anxious to find him I'm assuming that you didn't bump into him on your boat either. He's quite hard to miss actually. He's usually the one in black leaning over the side. Follow the retching. Poor man. Never got on with boats…"

"Why is he still in the Holy Land?" interrupted Robin.

"Search me. If I knew I'd have sent him a note telling him to get himself home. I need him over here. There's no use waving the sword around, I am actually telling the truth."

Robin looked at the Sheriff's smirking face. There was definitely truth in it, somewhere behind the eyes, although Robin couldn't tell to which part of the tale it alluded. One thing was for certain though – the Sheriff was definitely hiding something beneath the mangle of truth and lies, and he was in no hurry to reveal it.

XXX

"Gisborne's still in the Holy Land," said Robin as they walked back to the camp with the sunrise. "He didn't come back with the Sheriff. Though the Sheriff won't say why."

"Did you really expect him to?" asked Allan. "Honestly?"

"No," admitted Robin. He felt so frustrated. He was finally putting his mind to something that wasn't his grief over Marian, and he was getting nowhere. "But he knows more than he was telling. There's something not right. Shah Maht is still alive and well, even if Gisborne got lost at sea trying to dispense it."

"Robin…" began John in a tone that implied he wanted nothing more than to forget that the Holy Land ever happened. But John never got to finish his sentence, for Allan had opened their supposedly deserted hideout to reveal two people inside it already.

Will and Djaq had returned from the Holy Land.

* * *

I love writing the Sheriff, and I tried to stay true to character... I wasn't trying to be funny on purpose but I really can imagine that conversation. 

Review please!


	3. Suspicion

_Chapter Three_

_Suspicion_

It took a while for all the necessary greetings, congratulations, welcome-homes and we-missed-yous to be imparted, but they finally settled back into their customary positions around the camp as if Will and Djaq had never been away, Much steadfastly preparing his squirrels.

"This is great," he said. "The whole gang back together again."

"The whole gang plus two," said Will. Everyone looked at Djaq with expressions of either worry or disbelief.

"Not me!" she exclaimed indignantly. "Honestly! Men! You all have one-track minds!"

"So who…" began Much.

Will produced a covered box from the depths of his travelling bag.

"Tada," he said, pulling away the cover to reveal two plump grey pigeons. "Meet Asha and Rana."

"There are two, so we have two messages," explained Djaq quickly. "Obviously a pigeon can only make one journey to its mate and it won't fly back. We want to keep one for sending and one for receiving, but if it's an emergency, I daresay I could get Bassam to send us another over on the next boat."

For the next few hours, no one would have known that anything had ever happened to bring grief to the outlaws as they ate and drank just like old times. But as the fire burnt away to embers, Robin remembered his new calling.

"Djaq…Will…" he began once all the others had fallen asleep. "Gisborne is still in the Holy Land. Did you see him whilst you were out there?"

Unnoticed by Robin, Djaq shot Will a worried look.

"No," he said steadily. "We didn't." Djaq shook her head in agreement.

"How do you know he's still out there?" she asked.

"The Sheriff."

Robin turned to the fire, his mind tumbling through the events of the day, trying to piece together something from all the shards of ideas, theories and plots. Suddenly, through it all came a searing stab of guilt that he had forgotten Marian.

_You can't just allow your life to stop,_ he told himself angrily, looking round at his gang. None of them had. Besides, Marian had died saving the King. If Robin didn't continue to work towards his protection then she would have died in vain.

And, despite what he'd said to Allan earlier, a part of him was screaming silently for revenge. If he closed his eyes, he could still see the sword in her stomach and then shift the scene until it was his hand guiding the blade and the blood spilled over black leather, not white linen. It wasn't pleasure that he felt with that thought, merely justice, a sense that things had come full circle.

"Robin, have you been listening?" came Djaq's irritated voice, shattering the reverie. "Are you sure that he hasn't fallen on his sword? After all, he did always claim to love her and it's not unheard of."

"Sorry…what?"

Djaq rolled her eyes.

"It's legend that in the Far East, beyond the Holy Land, if a soldier is shamed, he falls on his own sword to prevent living with that shame. Do you think Gisborne could have done that?"

"Wh-wh-wh-what?" yawned Much, who had been snoring quietly. "You'd have to be pretty stupid to fall on your own sword. It'd kill you."

"That's the point, Much," groaned Will.

"No," said Robin, returning to the earlier question. "He doesn't have the courage. No, the Sheriff's behind this, I'm certain of it."

"Robin," said Djaq, "I think you need to sleep. Think about it more when you've rested." She sighed and closed her eyes, as she knew where Robin's train of thought was heading, and she hadn't anticipated returning to her homeland so soon after settling back into England. She didn't regret her decision to do what she had done, but she hadn't anticipated a consequence like this. She just prayed that Robin would see sense and drop the plan that was coming a little to close to the truth for comfort…

XXX

For a few weeks, Djaq thought that her praying might have paid off. Robin didn't mention Gisborne or the king once, throwing himself into his task fully. It was only in the evenings that he wasn't the Robin they'd known before. When he wasn't contemplating and subdued, he was skittering off to the villages, getting ideas, observations, all the while making his own plans and preparations. But, finally, the day she had been dreading arrived.

"There's a ship leaving for Acre in two days," he said.

"I know where this is going," said Allan. "We're off back out there to find Gisborne and stop the Sheriff's evil assassination plans. Look, Robin, I'm not being funny or anything, but it's been months now. If it was going to happen, it would have happened by now."

"Not necessarily," said Robin steadfastly. "He might be biding his time. Lulling the King into a false sense of security."

"Robin, he's in the middle of a war!" exclaimed Djaq. "He's never going to be in a false sense of security!"

"He might."

"Robin, we can't leave the villagers again," said John indignantly. "It was bad enough last time, but now we're leaving them alone with the Sheriff. Please Robin, see sense!" he implored.

"I know we'll be leaving the villagers. But that's what I've been doing for the past two months – helping the villagers to fend for themselves. They'll be able to cope for the time we're away."

John was far from convinced.

"If you don't want to come, you don't have to," said Robin. "You can all stay if you want. I'll go alone."

"You're a brave man Robin, but that's just stupid." Allan sighed, as if he was signing his life away with his words. "I'm coming. Even if it does mean another blasted boat."

"You can decide amongst yourselves," said Robin. "Djaq, send a message to Bassam…"

XXX

It was about midnight, and Marian couldn't sleep. She lay watching the voiles fluttering in the cool night breeze, Guy's warm form entwined around her.

"Are you awake?" she whispered over her shoulder.

"Just," he yawned to her hair. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I can't sleep, that's all."

"Hmm." He turned over and she felt a rush of cold air fill the void where his body had been. "I think the locals are finally getting used to us."

Marian smiled. They had certainly attracted some strange looks on becoming a permanent fixture in Acre, the odd English couple. Indeed, people had been wary, almost hostile at first, rightly so considering the events of past years. But, as time had gone on and they had learnt to blend in better, learnt the customs, traditions and language enough to get by, so they felt more accepted. Their acquaintance with Bassam had also helped greatly, securing them this modest house and finding Guy some work at the armoury. They'd said from the very beginning, making plans whilst Marian was recuperating, that they were going to be independent. In the time that they had stayed with Bassam they were grateful for all that he did for them, but they didn't want to be reliant on him forever. What was the point in engineering their freedom so delicately only to be tied once again?

The sound of knocking drifted through the house.

"Is that the door?" asked Guy sleepily. "Who comes calling at this hour?

"I don't think so. You're imaging things."

But then it came again, this time accompanied by an urgent whisper: _Guy! Marian! Open up!_

"Are you going?" asked Marian. Guy groaned.

"Do I have to?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you're the man of the house. I'd get going, it sounds like an emergency."

Bassam had begun to speak almost before Guy had opened the door.

"I've had a message from Djaq," he said. Guy jerked fully awake, something inside him freezing in an instant. It obviously couldn't be good news, and he had the terrible feeling that their liberty and happiness of past months was to be short-lived.

"Come in," he said wearily, and sprinted back upstairs to break the news to Marian.

"Who is it?" she hissed, meeting him halfway along the corridor, swathed in the bed sheets.

"Bassam. He's heard from Djaq. You'd better get dressed."

He returned to the living room, where Bassam was still standing, nervous and uneasy.

"What's the message?" asked Guy. Bassam handed over the slip of rough paper without a word.

_B,_ it read. _We're all coming back. R determined to find G. Is certain G and V still plot to kill K. Warn G and M. Remember you know nothing. M is dead. G has disappeared. Love S and W. _

"What are we going to do?" asked Marian, who had entered unannounced and read the letter over Guy's shoulder.

"I don't know."

"I must go now," said Bassam. "I needed to warn you as soon as I could."

"Thank you," said Marian. She waited until Bassam had left before wrapping her arms around Guy's waist and resting her chin on his shoulder. He seemed to be shell-shocked by the words.

"We shall have to hide for a bit," she said, evidently unhappy with the proposition.

"But what if he finds us?"

"We've got a few weeks yet to decide that. Come to bed." She kissed his cheek. "We'll think on it fresh in the morning."

"It's alright for you," Guy said, pulling out of her hold and turning to face her. "You can hide better than I can. I still have to go to the armoury."

"Guy! Forget it! It's too late to start worrying now! We'll think of something, but we'll think of it tomorrow." She smiled, and he smiled back at the desire dancing in her eyes. "Let's have a final night of freedom before Robin comes between us again."

"You know I love you…" he growled softly.

"I know you want me…" she replied.

They shared a kiss, at first chaste, becoming more sensuous. They'd survive, somehow. They were good at surviving. But that was the future. At that moment, the present was more important…

* * *

_A/N:_ Djaq talks about Samurais at one point …I have done my research… Samurais have been around since about the 700's so I am not being anachronistic when I mention them. Go me for doing research!

I liked the idea of Guy and Marian living ordinary lives as peasant-type people, as their titles would mean nothing in Acre.

As per usual…please review!


	4. Obsession

_Chapter Four_

_Obsession_

The sun was blazing in the sky as Robin and the gang left the ship from England.

"I hope this isn't going to become a very regular trip," muttered Allan, still looking a little queasy from the journey.

Bassam was waiting for them on the dockside.

"We should hurry," he said. "There is unrest here. Tension. We anticipate a turning point in the war; it would not be prudent to make a show of yourselves."

They walked quickly back towards what Much had affectionately named 'the pigeon house', observing the looks and whispers of the native townsfolk.

It felt strange, being back so comparatively soon after he'd left, thought Robin. He breathed in the almost-familiar smells of spices from the market and hot metal from the armoury. Sure enough, with the familiarity came memory of their last dreadful visit to this town. It had been so deserted that day, but now there were so many more signs of life. Life, the word in itself brought back so much pain. Robin blinked back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. It wouldn't do to break down now; he was on a serious mission for King and country, albeit self-instigated. He wasn't going to let his heart get in the way…

A flash of something pale caught his eye and he naturally followed it until he could focus. It was a young woman, dressed all in white. That was to be expected the heat, but Robin found himself intrigued by her as she spoke inaudibly with the market traders. Perhaps it was déja-vu, the familiarity of the situation getting to him, but there was something, in her stance maybe, that he recognised. Presently she turned slightly, and he caught a glimpse of wavy dark hair beneath the white scarf, a fleeting flash of a face. He knew that face…

"Marian!" he yelled, and moved towards her. She started at his advance and ran. Robin pursued.

"Master!" called Much after him.

"It's Marian!" Robin shouted over his shoulder. "I swear it's Marian!"

"Master, don't do this! Don't torture yourself!" cried Much. He made to follow but soon gave up, Robin and the woman in white lost to the port and the market. He turned back to the gang. "Now what do we do?"

"Leave him," said Djaq. "He knows where the house is." She gave a dry laugh. "So much for not drawing attention to ourselves. We'd better move on, fast."

As they continued on their way, Djaq risked a glance at Will. His expression reciprocated her feelings. She prayed that the woman wasn't Marian, or, if it was, that she was fleeter of foot than Robin.

XXX

Marian didn't dare look back over her shoulder. Robin had only seen her face for a second but it was enough for him to recognise her. She just kept running.

"Marian?" came a different voice to her left, making her stop abruptly. It was Saira, the wife of one of the men who sold spices at the market. Marian had helped to learn English over the last few months.

"Saira, I'm not here. If someone asks, you haven't seen me."

She took off again, melting into the traders and dockworkers. Saira tried to call her back, but before she could she was accosted by another Englishman.

"Where did she go?" he asked. "The woman in white?"

Saira shook her head, pretending not to understand. The man cursed under his breath and carried on again with renewed vigour at a flash of white to the end of the main street. He didn't notice Saira breathe a sigh of relief as he left her.

XXX

Marian slowed down and eventually stopped, slipping into the cool, empty back street to catch her breath. She couldn't run any further, not in the heat. She could feel the sweat running down her back, and she took off the damp headscarf to dry her face.

"Oh no…" she murmured to the fabric. "Why did this have to happen?"

"Marian?"

She started on hearing a male voice and feeling a hand on her shoulder. She turned, ready to defend herself if needs be but then relaxed with a thankful sigh at the sight of Guy's puzzled face.

"What's the matter? You went running past the armoury as if all the beasts of Hell were after you."

"Robin," she said simply. "Quick!"

She pulled him further into the alley after seeing Robin run past the entrance.

"Well," said Guy, watching his old adversary retreating into the distance. "He's definitely back."

Marian collapsed against his chest with a moan.

"What are we going to do?" she asked as he held her close. "He only saw my face for a split second and he was after me like a charger." She laughed bitterly. "It's so ironic. I was asking someone when the ship from England arrived and they pointed to the one that had just come in. I turned and there he was."

"We'll just have to stay incognito for a while. Keep a low profile and pray he puts it down to desert madness."

"I hope so. I don't like keeping a low profile. I like to be out there, with the people."

"That was your downfall in Nottingham." Guy smiled almost wistfully at the memories of their time in England. It seemed so far away.

"Come on," he said, finally dragging himself out of the reverie. He took Marian's scarf from her unresisting hands and wrapped it round her face so only her brilliant blue eyes could be seen. "Go home and keep your head down."

He kissed the white silk that covered her mouth and gave her an encouraging push towards the alley entrance. After watching her disappear, Guy gave a long sigh. Marian was not the only one who was going to have to avoid being seen by Robin. He imagined that the result of a chance meeting between the two of them would be a lot more serious than a sprint around Acre market…

XXX

Robin had given up the chase and resigned himself to the fact that he had lost her. Much answered the door of Bassam's house.

"I take it that it wasn't her?" he said.

"I don't know. I couldn't catch her. I'll find her tomorrow."

"Master…" Much paused, unable to articulate the next part of the statement. "Marian's _dead_. We saw her die. I think it's the familiarity. Or maybe the heat."

"Much, the heat has not fried my brains! I know what I saw, and I saw Marian!"

"Robin." Djaq came around the corner. "Don't you think this is perhaps a little obsessive? You probably scared the poor woman half to death."

"No," said Robin stubbornly. "I know what I saw."

"Robin, I'm not being funny or anything," called Allan, "but shouldn't you focus on what we're actually here for? Finding Gisborne, remember?"

"Yes." Robin sighed. "You're right." He entered the living area, giving a courteous nod to Lardner as he passed the pigeons…

Much later, the room eventually fell silent, the ghosts of half-plots and theories set aside for the evening. Djaq thought about something Bassam had said during their conversations.

"_Don't give up now. There is still hope._"

He was, of course, referring to the protection of the King, yet Djaq couldn't help but worry that Robin would take the words too much to heart. She didn't want him doggedly searching for either Marian or Gisborne just in case he was successful.

"If we've finished for the evening then there are some friends here that Will and I should like to visit," she said aloud, hoping that she didn't sound too conspicuous.

"Who?" mouthed Will.

"Who do you think?" she replied, silently yet indignantly.

"That's fine," said Robin. "I want to start making inquires at dawn tomorrow."

Djaq nodded her acknowledgement before she and Will took their leave of the group.

XXX

Guy opened the door.

"I wondered when we'd be seeing you. Come in."

"We've come to warn you," said Djaq darkly, stepping over the threshold. "Robin's obsessed. He saw Marian in the market earlier."

"I know," said Guy.

"He's determined to find her," added Will. "It's actually quite scary."

"And we can't forget who else he's determined to find," said Marian dryly, appearing in her usual inimitable way behind Guy's shoulder.

"No. He wants to start the hunt, as it were, at dawn." Djaq sighed. "You and the Sheriff aren't plotting to kill the King, are you?" she added sharply as a weighted afterthought.

Guy gave a half-moan of exasperation.

"Of course I'm not! I don't know what the Sheriff's planning but I swear to God I'm not involved."

"Well, the Sheriff is certainly planning something, and I highly doubt that it is a welcome home party for the King." Djaq suddenly cursed aloud. "Why did we come back here? Why didn't we stay in England? I daresay we could have been of more use there!"

"We didn't want Robin to get himself killed," said Will by way of melancholy explanation. "And we wanted to protect you."

This remark was addressed firmly to Marian.

"Thank you," she replied. "But please don't put yourselves in danger to do so. I can take care of myself. We can take care of ourselves. Thank you for the warning though."

Although he would never admit it, Will was quite glad Marian had said what she had. He didn't really want to get on the wrong side of Robin, especially when he was in a determined mood. On the very rare occasions when he'd had the misfortune to witness Robin's vicious side, he'd always hoped it was something he wouldn't have to see again.

"So now what do we do?" he asked Djaq as they walked quietly back to Bassam's house with the fading daylight.

"We pretend we know nothing," she replied. "And we pray that Marian and Guy can keep themselves sufficiently hidden."

Will thought about Marian, or at least the Marian he had known in Sherwood. The wild and impulsive fighter of injustice, always charging head first into things and sometimes causing trouble as a result. He highly doubted that she would be able to disappear so completely.

* * *

_Disclaimer:_ Saira is just someone I made up because I needed a character. 


	5. Madness

A/N: This chapter is a little heavy on the dialogue… Just a friendly warning.

_Chapter Five_

_Madness_

Marian slipped out of the house whilst it was still dark, warily looking around for Robin or any of the other outlaws. She made her way quickly down to the dockside where the market stalls were just starting to set up for the day's trading.

"Saira? Saira?" she called, searching anxiously for the other woman.

"Marian, what's the matter?"

"Oh Saira, I'm so glad you're here. I need your help."

"Does this involve the Englishman who chased you yesterday?"

"Yes."

Saira looked a little alarmed. _Rightly so_, thought Marian.

"Don't worry," she reassured. "He won't hurt you. In fact he'll be very apologetic. It's me he's looking for."

"Right…" Saira still didn't look anywhere near completely satisfied. "Marian…does your husband know about this?"

"He doesn't know I'm here. He doesn't really want me sneaking out of the house."

"What about the other man?"

"Yes, he knows I'm being stalked by another man, that's why he doesn't really want me sneaking out of the house. Please, Saira, I need your help to try and stop this thing."

Saira sighed heavily.

"What would you want me to do?"

"Take this white headscarf here, and go to collect water from the fountain outside Bassam's house at dawn. Please?" Marian looked into her friend's eyes, a desperate, unspoken plea passing between them.

"I'll do it. I suppose that as this is the first time you've ever asked a favour, the least I could do would be to accept it in return for how you've helped me."

"Thank you Saira."

She turned to hurry back to the house.

"Wait…Marian… why is this man following you?"

Marian sighed, and Saira could sense that it was not something she wanted to discuss at that moment, if ever.

"He thinks I'm dead," she said simply. "It's a long story, and I will tell it some day. Right now I have to go before I experience a repeat of yesterday."

Saira watched Marian disappear back to her home, the blue of her dress blending perfectly with the half-light of the fast-approaching dawn.

"She's a strange lady, your Marian," said Saira's husband. "Very strange." There was a still and silent pause for a moment. "Are you helping to set up this stall or not?"

"I have to do something for Marian first. I'll be back soon."

_Oh Marian, you are a woman of many mysteries,_ she thought as she made her way towards the fountain.

XXX

"_I love you," says Marian, and this time Robin finds he can turn. He endeavours to see the one she addresses, but all he can see are dark shadows, wispy grey forms moving inconsistently, incoherently._

"_I love you too."_

_The words don't come from his own lips. Marian… Marian…_

Robin sat bolt upright to see the outlaws and Bassam gathered around him, corresponding in a sad yet strangely inevitable pattern to the grey shapes of his dream.

"You were shouting in your sleep," said Djaq, trying to mask the worry in her voice.

Robin sighed and turned to look out of the window, his heart skipping a beat from what he saw.

"She's there," he said, looking over to the fountain. "The white scarf. It's her."

"No, Robin…" said John, but Robin ignored his warning tone and jumped up, preparing to go after her again.

"No, Robin, don't, you'll scare her…" Djaq called after him as he left the house at a run, his footsteps silent in the soft sands. Robin, however, had no intention of scaring her and causing himself another fruitless chase around the market. He approached her cautiously.

"Marian?" he whispered.

The woman with the white scarf turned, and Robin's heart, which had been beating hard in his mouth, sank to his feet. It wasn't Marian.

"Please sir…don't hurt me."

"I won't… I'm sorry I scared you. Wait…" Robin recognised the woman's face. "I spoke to you yesterday. You understand English? Why didn't you talk to me?"

"Do you think I was going to let you chase a terrified young woman around Acre? Of course I didn't talk to you! If you have lost someone and want to find her, it is best to make enquiries, not to go running after strangers."

"Of course. You're right. What's your name?"

"Saira. I hope you find your Marian."

Saira left Robin immersed in his thoughts. _I'm going mad,_ he told himself. _I can't start thinking every woman in white I see is Marian. Get a grip. She can't be here._

"Robin, we're going to look for Gisborne, you know, the reason we came over here in the first place," came Allan's voice, bringing Robin back to reality with a jolt. "Are you coming or not?"

"Give me a few minutes."

He closed his eyes, feeling the sun beginning to warm his skin. Perhaps what Much had said was right. Perhaps it was the heat, causing old wounds to surface and bleed anew. Perhaps he was going mad. A few minutes passed, but he didn't join the others, still drowning in his thoughts and fears.

XXX

"Do you think we're going to see Robin at all today?" asked John. "Or are we just going to carry on this useless search than he initiated?"

Much knew better than to say anything. They all knew that John was not a particular fan of the heat, and Robin's strange moods were making him even more irritable. Much occasionally wondered why John had joined them on this expedition: he had been against it so vehemently at the beginning and it was obvious that he wasn't enjoying it any more than the rest of them now that he was here. None of them were overly thrilled to be back, except possibly Djaq, who was probably happy to be home. Coming to think of it, he couldn't quite understand why she and Will had come back in the first place. If they were going to come back anyway, why had they waited a few months? The enigmas of Djaq and John…One day, Much would find out all the answers to his questions, but at that moment he had more pressing matters on his mind. He had a gnawing fear that he was going the same way as Robin.

"What's the matter?" asked Djaq, breaking her step to walk beside him, occasionally pausing to look at a trinket on a stall or exchange words with a trader.

Much decided to talk. After all, wasn't it always best to share your problems? _Look at Robin_, he thought, the perfect example of bottled up feelings slowly sending you insane.

"I'm worried," he said definitively. "I'm worried that Robin's gone mad. I'm worried that we aren't gaining anything by being here except everyone being miserable. I'm worried about what's happening back home." He paused, a little unsure as to how he was going to word his last and greatest fear. "And I'm worried that I'm going mad as well."

"What makes you say that?" asked Djaq, a little surprised. Whilst Much might have some strange ideas, she'd always thought that he was firmly in possession of his mind.

"I thought I saw Marian this morning," he said. "She was dressed in blue and she went into the little house in the next street along. I'm going mad."

It was at that moment that Djaq realised she couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't continue with the pretence. Grief she could handle, but she couldn't live letting her friends doubt their sanity without reason.

"You did," she said, with a sigh that could have shaken the Earth. "Marian is still alive and still here. You and Robin aren't going mad."

Much stopped dead.

"What…why…you…we've got to tell Robin!"

"Wait!" Djaq pulled him back. "I'll explain everything."

There was a long pause.

"Well?" asked Much. "Are you going to explain or not?"

"I'll tell everyone. Will, John, Allan," she called. "We've got to stop for a minute."

XXX

"Will and I have some explaining to do," began Djaq once they had all settled themselves into the cool shade of the nearest building.

"Basically, Marian's still alive," said Will bluntly.

"I think it's despicable…knowing all this time and not telling us…all the pain, the grief, trying to deal with Robin…"

"Much, shut up!" roared John. "Djaq and Will are going to explain. Aren't you?" he added in a warning tone.

"We are." Djaq took a deep breath and began the story. "It was Marian's idea."

"So that makes everything fine?" asked Much incredulously.

"No, it makes it not our idea! She wanted to disappear. And…" she added, before Much could speak again, "she wanted to disappear and not have Robin coming after her. Seeing as though that's happened anyway, I don't see any good in keeping the secret any longer."

"I still don't see…"

"Much, can you be quiet for just two minutes whilst we explain?" exclaimed Will in an unnatural burst of anger. "Dying was the only way Marian could disappear completely. So in your eyes, she died, and that was final until Robin got it into his head that the King was in danger again."

There was silence. Not even Much had anything to say at this point.

"Allan," said John. "You haven't said a word throughout this."

"I'm thinking," said Allan. There was silence for a few moments. "Three questions, then I'll be happy with the situation. One: How did you do it? Two: Was Gisborne in on it or was that a lucky coincidence? Three: Why did Marian want to disappear?"

"How…you should know how, we faked Robin's death in the same way. Gisborne…"

"The look in your eyes is saying yes," John interrupted plaintively.

"Yes, Gisborne was in on it."

"So why? And what happened to Gisborne?"

"He's still here."

There was a long pause.

"You still haven't told us why," pointed out Allan eventually. "Djaq, I think we have the right to know why this whole great calamity occurred."

"And I think Marian has the right to tell you that for herself," said Will quietly.

Djaq surveyed the group, taking in the looks of hurt, anger and confusion.

"Come on," she said, getting up. "Let's go and see Marian and you can find out why."

"We've got to tell Robin," said Allan as they emerged from the shadows back into the light and made their way towards the little house in the street along from Bassam's. "I'm not being funny or anything, but what if he finds Gisborne? That's going to be one emotional reunion I really don't want to intrude on."

"Let's hear what Marian has to say first," said John. Djaq was inwardly surprised that he had taken the news so well. "I for one want to get to the bottom of this."

_Please let this go well_, thought Djaq and Will as one.

XXX

Marian opened the door expecting anyone except the people she found there. The group of sombre-looking outlaws said nothing, and Marian knew at once that Djaq and Will had told them the whole story.

"Marian, they know," said Djaq, a note of sorrow ringing in her voice. "I couldn't live the lie any longer. I felt it was courteous to let you explain why…"

* * *

_A/N:_ Woah… This is the longest chapter but I needed to get it all explained to the outlaws. 


	6. Vengeance

_Chapter Six_

_Vengeance_

Reluctantly, Marian invited the outlaws into the house.

"If I tell you the story, will you all promise not to interrupt me until I've finished?" she asked.

"Yes," said John, casting a warning glance at Much.

As soon as they were all seated, Marian began her tale.

"There were many reasons why I wanted to disappear. Firstly, I was feeling so frustrated in Nottingham. I'd convinced myself that by being the Nightwatchman I was doing the right thing, and I know that helping the poor _is_ the right thing, but it was getting harder and harder to do. It seemed that the more I tried, the more it didn't go to plan and you seemed to be doing such a good job on your own that I didn't know why I bothered any more. And being at the castle didn't help…"

"You didn't need to stay at the castle," pointed out Much. "You could have come into the forest and been with us and Robin."

"Much, you promised you wouldn't interrupt!" said Marian in a half-desperate tone. "You wanted an explanation so let me explain. I felt I had no purpose in life anymore. I wanted to start something completely new. But that was going to be very hard. You are right to say I could have come into the forest with you, and I tried to tell myself that it was impossible, that I had to stay because of my father and because you needed a spy in the castle. But I knew in my heart it wasn't because of either of those reasons."

Marian paused for breath, very aware of how her voice had been speeding up in her haste to get the explanation over.

"It was because I'd fallen out of love with Robin. I fell out of love with him a long time ago, but I said nothing, not even to myself because I didn't want to admit to myself the reason why. I still liked him, but I'd come to view him more as a brother than a lover and I realised that it would never work between us if I was pretending to love him yet he still loved me sincerely. But I couldn't simply tell him because, well, I just didn't have the courage. Because I…" Marian stopped. She really didn't want to continue the sentence under the scrutinising eyes of the outlaws. "Because I'm in love with Guy."

"What?" exclaimed Much.

"No interruptions," growled John. "Continue."

"Thank you John. So I spoke to Djaq, and together we formed this plan. It just so happened to occur here in the Holy Land."

There was silence.

"So…" began Allan, trying to make sense of the vast wealth of feelings and explanations that had just been imparted. "Gisborne pretended to kill you so that you could stay out here and marry him?"

"If you want to put it in basic words, yes," replied Marian.

"What about us and Robin?" exclaimed Much in anger. "Don't we matter any more? Don't you care that we were grieving for you? And…Gisborne? Of all the people to fall in love with you chose Gisborne?"

"I do care! I do feel guilty, but would you rather that I died, you grieved and you could move on with your lives or would you rather that I stayed alive, marrying and professing to truly love your archenemy? I was sick of all the deception; I think there wasn't a single person I could be completely truthful with. For once in my life I wanted to be selfish, because everyone has that right sometimes. You of all people should understand, Allan, switching your allegiance to the side that gives you the best life. I'm sorry that wanting to be happy is so wrong!" Marian broke down into tears, silently pleading with the outlaws to understand and see it from her point of view, as Djaq had been able to do. "And you know that we can't choose who we fall in love with, Much."

"Do you understand now?" asked Djaq of the men.

For perhaps the first time in his life, Much was at an absolute and complete loss for words. A range of emotions ran through his mind: anger, sadness, sheer disbelief, and he realised with a jolt that he now had to accept that the world was a lot more complicated than he'd ever wanted to believe. There was more to it than simple good and bad, the way he had always liked to see it. There was an awful and painful truth in Marian's words. You couldn't choose with whom you fell in love...

For a few long moments, nothing could be heard in the house, Much, John and Allan still reeling from all the revelations they'd experienced in the last half-hour or so. They stayed silently gathering their thoughts and opinions, each one holding different views and questions of the situation: _How could she do this to us? Whose side does that make her on? Can we still trust her? What about Gisborne? Can we trust him? Do we tell Robin or not? Why are love and life so complicated?_

"We've got to tell Robin," said Allan, revisiting his thoughts from earlier.

"No!" cried Marian in a tone of anguish. "I did this for him! To try and spare him some pain! How am I going to explain it to him, of all people?"

"The same way you explained it to us," said John softly. He had always held a near-fatherly affection for Marian, and he understood the dilemma she felt at leaving her friends behind from his leaving his own family.

"We really should tell Robin," agreed Will. "He'll kill Gisborne as soon as he sees him, no matter what he may say to us about not seeking revenge. I think we all want to avoid more bloodshed than necessary."

"Where was he searching?" asked Marian. "After all, I know the town quite well now. Djaq and I could probably find a shortcut."

"He said something about the armoury yesterday," said Allan. "He was thinking along the lines of 'if I was a traitor about to kill the King, where would I need to go?' He's not about to kill the King is he?" he added warily.

"No," intoned Djaq, their conversation of the previous night forefront in her mind. "Marian, what's the matter?"

Marian had gone deathly white.

"Oh no…" she said in barely more than a whisper. John moved towards her, she looked so much as if she was about to faint.

"What is it?" asked Will.

"Guy works at the armoury. He's there right now."

No one said anything, but the looks passed between the six were enough to send them out of the house at a sprint and run down the streets towards the armoury.

XXX

Robin cursed his idiocy. Of course Marian wasn't there. Of course Gisborne wasn't going to show himself out of nowhere. He'd dragged his gang all the way to the Holy Land; he'd left his people to the mercy of the Sheriff and for what purpose? None. It had all been a long, tiring wild-goose chase, born of his own selfish madness.

"_Don't give up," said Bassam. "There is still hope."_

Robin stood with vigour anew at the memory of the positive words. He was going to find Gisborne and he was going to take his revenge. It was time to start making serious inquiries. It was all very well asking random strangers in the street, as no doubt the others were doing whilst he was reflecting, but that wasn't really going to yield anything. He needed to go to places where Gisborne was likely to have been seen. Robin found his gaze straying over to the armoury once more, the smell of hot metal permeating his nose, and he thought of his words the previous night. It was as good a place to start as any. After all, any self-respecting assassin needed weaponry.

He entered the stifling building and let his eyes grow accustomed to a darkness occasionally punctuated by the flash of a white-hot sword from a furnace.

"_Who here speaks English?" _he asked the nearest worker in the native tongue. The blacksmith spoke too quickly for Robin to truly understand, and then pointed further into the forge to a man dressed in black, his back turned to them, fingering the sharpness of a blade. Robin moved towards him.

"Sir…I am looking for someone, an Englishman whom I have reason to believe has been here."

The dark-clad man said nothing, instead turning to reveal an all-too-familiar face.

Gisborne.

The hatred rose like bile in Robin's throat, the Devil biting at his nerves, spitting harsh words through his head: _Kill him. Torture him. Leave him to die in as much pain as Marian did. More. He deserves it. _Nothing was said for what seemed like an age, old enemies finally reunited, staring at each other, the air so thick with mutual malice that it was almost choking to breathe. The forge stopped working, all eyes turning to the two Englishmen in the centre, the atmosphere between them burning hotter than the furnaces. Low mumbles of theories and rumours ran around the room, but then there was silence again.

"Outside," said Gisborne quietly.

"Yes," agreed Robin. _You will die in public under the burning desert sun, humiliated..._

XXX

"He's there!" panted Much, reaching the top of the main street to see Robin coming out of the armoury, looking grave and grimly determined. The other outlaws and Marian followed Much until it was a veritable legion all careering down towards the long, white building. Much slowed in perplexity when he saw Robin draw his sword and stopped altogether when he saw who left the armoury behind him. The red from exertion that had been in Much's cheeks suddenly drained away, leaving him ghostly pale in horror.

"Oh no. Robin! Master!"

He set off once again, willing his legs to move faster, although now he feared that there was to be no avoiding the inevitable...

XXX

Robin could hear Much calling, but he ignored him. He finally had this opportunity and nothing was going to stop him this time. He had no qualms, no doubts. This was the right thing, the justified thing. A life for a life. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of someone in blue moving in amongst his gang, a flash of someone who could have been Marian. But Robin wasn't going to let himself think of that again. He couldn't be tormented, not now, not when he was so close to reaching peace. He could take his vengeance and his mind would be clear and balanced once more.

Gisborne was standing there as if a statue, the sword from the forge still gripped loosely by his side. He seemed so tranquil, so calm for a man about to meet his fate. Robin on the other hand was so angry, so ready to do the deed. He raised his weapon and charged wildly towards his nemesis, the snicker of flashing metal soon filling Acre. As much as Robin hated to admit it, Gisborne was a good swordsman and he knew the weapons from the armoury well.

"I didn't kill her," he said, pushing Robin to the ground and standing back, watching him scramble to his feet but making no move save to lower the sword again. He was making a point of only defending when he had to and leaving Robin to initiate all the aggression. There was something soft in his voice, something almost pleading for peace between them. "I didn't kill her," he repeated.

"Liar," snarled Robin, but Gisborne still stood frozen, silently observing him. It seemed almost as if he was mocking Robin, daring him to kill. Robin was so impassioned as to accept the unspoken challenge, running forward again, expecting a parry at the last minute and a continued clash of weapons. But Gisborne was not quick enough. The sword was driven home into his stomach. He took a sharp breath and dropped his own sword as Robin's entered him, hands moving automatically to catch the trickle of blood that oozed slowly around the blade. He fell to his knees, still saying nothing.

Robin suddenly heard a scream, but it did not come from his victim.

"Robin! Guy! No!" All of a sudden the someone in blue was at his side, then there in front of him was the unmistakable face of Marian, tortured and twisted with tears, her hands pushing him aside to be closer to his fallen adversary, skidding onto her knees beside him. She cradled Gisborne against her chest, all the while crying _no…no…_ as if saying it enough times would negate the situation.

"Master!" yelled Much. But Robin didn't hear, couldn't hear. He felt numb, an observer in events, looking in upon some terrible tragedy. He was surrounded by voices, people bustling, jostling, shouting and in the middle of it all, Marian: sobbing, choked and angry but so very much alive. Alive. Gisborne had spoken the truth when he'd said he hadn't killed her.

Another voice brought him back into the world, as if waking from a dream into another nightmare of heat and noise and blood, so much blood on his hands. It was a voice accompanied by charging hoof beats.

"PEACE!" roared the Saracen messenger as he thundered through the town, Bassam, Saira and all the other residents flooding into the streets to hear him. "RICHARD RETURNS TO ENGLAND! WE HAVE PEACE!"

* * *

_A/N: _To be continued! Don't give up hope of Guy and Marian finally finding peace and please, please do not stop reading! (And please don't yell at me in reviews, I won't take to kindly to that.)

Forget what I said last chapter. This is definitely the longest.

Please review!


	7. Truth

_A/N:_ Thank you so much for hanging on! I've put a little bit more WillxDjaq in this one, as I feel I have been ignoring them slightly.

_Chapter Seven_

_Truth_

"_He's still breathing!"_

"_How bad is it?"_

"_He's been impaled, how bad do you think it is?"_

"_Djaq, can you do anything?"_

"_I don't know, I can't see."_

"_I'll take the sword out."_

"_No!!"_

Guy was vaguely aware of many voices around him and many shapes above him. He could just make out Bassam, Saira and Djaq, slightly fuzzy and out of focus. He could feel the hot sand beneath him, but it seemed to be growing colder. Hadn't someone just said something about peace? He couldn't remember. There was another form hovering as well, so pale and blue and beautiful. It couldn't be an angel… he wasn't dying… he didn't want to die… he'd only just started a new life, a good, simple life filled with the love that had been absent from the last one. He had Marian… Marian! She was the pale, blue angel.

_Marian…_

He tried to say her name but he couldn't make the sound come out. He reached for her but she seemed so far…

Her hand caught his.

"I'm here," she said, and he could feel her tears dripping onto their clasped hands. He wanted to comfort her and wipe away those tears. Finally he regained his tongue, willing himself to hold onto precious consciousness for just a little while longer.

"Marian…" he managed, before letting the fuzziness become absolute…

"No!" Marian screamed. She jumped up from the ground and ran at Robin, slapping him once, twice… She raised her hand for a third blow but it never came. Instead she collapsed onto him, fresh floods of tears her incapacitation. "This wasn't how it was supposed to be," she sobbed. "It's all my fault."

Firm yet friendly hands pulled her away from Robin.

"Marian, he is not dead, we will do all we can," came Djaq's voice. Marian's heart soared, those few words giving her hope of indescribable dimension. Blurred by tears, she saw Djaq run across the square and enter Bassam's house, where they had taken Guy.

The hold on her arms loosened slightly.

"You're calm now?" asked the owner of the hands whom she now recognised to be John. She nodded and he let go of her completely as she turned to survey the area. It was buzzing with excitement and people in the wake of the shocking news that had just been borne through the town. She, however, couldn't focus on it. She couldn't think of the happiness and the celebration. There was so much that needed to be done, or rather, explained, before she could accept anything new. She saw Robin through the crowds, sitting on the edge of the fountain with his head in his hands.

The outlaws parted unconsciously to let her pass, clearing a direct path from her position to his. She turned to John, still standing steadfast and silent behind her.

"Please don't go," she whispered. "I think I shall need some support."

John said nothing but nodded his acquiescence. Marian took a deep breath and began the purposeful journey towards Robin. It was not a long path, but she walked it feeling as if she were a murderer about to be hung. It was time for her to tell Robin the whole truth for the first time in longer than she cared to remember.

XXX

"What are we going to do next?" asked Bassam.

"What _can_ we do next?" asked Saira, in such a tone that made it a much more pertinent question in the circumstances. Djaq paced up and down alongside Guy's body, lying so horribly still as if he were lifeless, the sword standing true, a mocking reminder of the situation they faced. She tried to answer the two questions for herself. There were so many ifs and buts, yet with every second she took deciding her course of action, she knew his chances of survival ticked slowly away.

_A sword to the stomach shouldn't kill… however if it's untreatable… how deep is it… how do we stop the bleeding…?_

Suddenly her incoherent thoughts moulded themselves into a plan.

"I've got it!" she said, tearing the ever-present vial of her mysterious elixir from round her neck and kneeling to administer it. "We can kill him!"

"What?" exclaimed Saira. "I thought we were going to save him!" She turned to Bassam, only to find him smiling too.

"Like Marian," he said. "Saira, find some bandages."

_I only hope this works_, thought Djaq gravely as she tentatively began to tend to the wound, waiting for his pulse to slow so that the sword could be taken out with minimal blood being spilled. It was ironic that both Marian and Guy should be saved in this way, a unity by the matching scars of their battle to be together to add to their tumultuous love story.

Eventually, his heartbeat at nearly nothing, Djaq worked faster than she had ever done before. It seemed that when the human pulse slowed, so did the pulse of time, making every second more precious in case it suddenly resumed its regular pace without warning. As she worked, Will's words of that fateful night came back to her.

_"We're doing this for Marian. Not you."_

Marian's face haunted her with every stroke of the needle that she pulled. The tortured anguish when she thought she had lost her loved one, unashamed floods of tears cascading freely down her nose and dripping off her chin, and then the unspeakable relief that had lit up her countenance when Djaq had given her fresh hope. There was no doubt in her mind that she was doing it for Marian. She couldn't bear the thought of killing that hope…

XXX

Robin felt dazed, as if the entire world was moving around him and yet he remained still and heavy, weighted to the Earth with the amount of confusion and anger he felt. His anger, however, was not towards Marian, more towards himself for being unable to form an opinion of the situation for more than a few seconds. On one hand, she had been kind in letting him close the door on the part of his life with her in it and allowing him to move on, but then again, to deceive him so totally… He kept replaying snippets of her explanation in his mind, not noticing the outside world or the fact that she was still sitting silently where he had left her, needing to be alone with his thoughts.

_I'm so sorry Robin… I love Guy… I wanted you to be able to move on… I didn't have enough courage…_

_… I didn't kill her… PEACE!_

Robin closed his eyes, trying to focus his thoughts but her form, in luminescent white, still swam in the forefront of his vision, the missing parts of his dream fitting suddenly and painfully into place.

_"I love you," she says, and he turns to see her step into the arms of his constant, and now victorious, adversary. Gisborne murmurs with a smile: "I love you too."_

"Robin. Robin!"

He opened his eyes to find himself face to face with Will.

"You knew," he said. "That's why you stayed here in the Holy Land. That's why you tried to stop us coming back. You knew. You lied to me to help Marian and Gisborne."

"We helped Marian," said Will stoically. "It just happened to involve Gisborne."

Will could feel Robin's anger at their almost-betrayal emanating from his leader like heat waves.

"Even if you can't have her, you want her to be happy, don't you?" he said, trying to mitigate the situation as best he could. "Marian's happy out here with Gisborne."

"Which would you rather?" asked Robin snidely. "That Djaq died or that she left you for another?"

"I don't know what I'd do without her," admitted Will. "But I think it would be worse to have to live knowing that she was definitely not and never would be mine because she was in the arms of another. But," he added quickly before Robin could interrupt, "even if she left me I'd want her to be happy. That's the mark of a good, true love, Robin. If you can let her go."

"But I don't want to let her go!" said Robin. "I want her to be mine!"

"The heart works in mysterious ways," said Djaq. She had emerged from the house and come over to them unnoticed. "I'm sorry Robin. Where's Marian?"

Robin indicated silently.

"I thought that the last time I saw her she was in love with me," he said, a slight bitterness and sadness permeating his voice.

"That was her plan. If she was going to disappear in order to spare you some pain, then why should she cause you even more pain by letting you carry on doubting whether she loved you when she died?"

It all seemed so horribly logical to Robin. He could now see why she had done it and why Will and Djaq had helped. Contrary to his first belief – that they were laughing at his love for her – they had done it because they didn't want to cause him more anguish than necessary. And the plan had almost worked until he, Robin, had foiled it unintentionally with his dogged insistence.

He drove his fist hard against the soft sand in frustration. Should he feel guilty for stabbing Gisborne or not? The anger rose in his head again.

_If I can't have her nor can he._

He shook the worrying thought away, trying to tell himself that he had not attacked in revenge, merely protection of the King, prevention of regicide and the fall of England, but he could no longer gild his actions of vengeance with a veil of patriotism. It was pure, red-mist revenge.

"I'm sorry it had to be like this," said Will sincerely.

Robin looked out of the corner of his eye to see Marian and Djaq enter Bassam's house, and he wondered with a leaden stomach the outcome of the surgery. What was Gisborne's fate? What was his own fate? As he was once again lost to musings and fears, another thought entered the mixture. Perhaps it was fate that had caused this in the first place. Perhaps he could still do some good here in Acre in the wake of the new peace that had only just been agreed.

* * *

_A/N:_ I'm sorry to have to tell you that the next chapter may take slightly longer as I haven't finished writing it long-hand yet, let alone typing it. It's in the pipeline, but I have coursework and a scholarship application essay to write. Ok, that's enough of my excuses. I hope you liked it and please review! 


	8. Acceptance

_A/N:_ Thank you for waiting. On with the show!

_Chapter Eight_

_Acceptance_

Marian wasn't quite sure what she should expect as Djaq lead her through the shady house. She was still reeling from explaining her situation to Robin.

"You needn't look so worried," said Djaq with a half smile. "We were successful." She indicated which way Marian should continue and left her to be alone with Guy.

Marian opened the door to the room reluctantly; still afraid of what she was about to see despite Djaq's reassuring words.

"You can come in, you know," came a cracked voice.

She pushed open the door fully and smiled back her tears of relief. She had cried enough that day and she didn't want to show any more weakness, especially not in front of Guy, who presently inclined his head towards her.

"I'm glad you're here," he continued. "You're prettier to look at than the ceiling."

She crossed the room and perched on the edge of the bed.

"You're still alive." It was an obvious statement but it was all that she could manage to say.

"It'll take more than Robin Hood to kill me. Apparently it was near thing, though."

"You're a survivor."

"So are you." His words were spoken with such complete earnest, his eyes affixed to hers. Marian found it ironic that he could be in such a delicate state and still keeping her at the forefront of his mind. She went to put her arms around him, the only way she could think of to express herself at that moment, but she settled for a fleeting embrace as Guy gave a muted exclamation of pain on her weight landing against his stomach.

"How bad is it?" she whispered, pushing the covers aside to trace her fingertips over his bandages.

"You've experienced the same," he said. "You tell me how bad it is."

Marian's free hand went to her own scar, her mind going back to the day she'd died and it had all begun.

_"It will hurt like Hell on Earth," Guy said as they managed to snatch a few moments together before the act, his voice betraying his unhappiness with her request._

"_You've done it before," she replied, perhaps with a hint of sharpness. "You can do it again."_

_He wasn't wrong, it was excruciating, but she didn't find it hurt as badly as last time. The potion was taking effect already and numbing her body to the pain…_

"I don't want to think about it," said Guy definitively. Marian slid off the bed to settle herself on the floor so that their eyes were level.

"What are we going to do?" she asked, taking his hand. It was partly for his comfort and reassurance, and partly for her own.

"Who knows?" Guy closed his eyes and Marian sensed the discussion being over before it had begun. She decided to focus on the present. They were both alive and there was peace in the Holy Land. That was all that mattered. They could work out what they were going to do next later. A knock on the door dragged Marian back into harsh reality. She didn't want any interruptions. All she wanted was to remain in quiet togetherness with Guy for as long as it took him to regain his strength.

"Come in," she called eventually.

The door swung open to reveal Djaq, a beaker clutched in her hands.

"This will help you sleep and numb the pain," she told Guy as she placed it beside the bed. "I'm afraid it doesn't taste very good. In England I use strawberries but there are none here. But it works, so you should drink it."

Djaq left them alone again as fleetingly as she had entered the room.

"What's it like?" asked Marian with an almost-smile after Guy had taken a few sips. Her question was answered with a grimace.

"Awful," he said.

He said no more, however, for then a yawn escaped his lips and he fell almost immediately into a deep, dreamless, pain-free slumber, leaving Marian to ponder the potent soporific effects of Djaq's medicine…

XXX

Guy woke suddenly to the cold night air, a bitter taste in his mouth and a sharp ache in the pit of his stomach. He looked down to see Djaq changing his bandages.

"Welcome back," she whispered. "You've been asleep for the whole day." She nodded somewhere to Guy's left. "Marian hasn't left you for a minute."

He twisted as much as he could to see her lying on her side, fast asleep on the narrow bed next to him, her left hand curled around his. She was a perfect portrait of unconscious beauty, even after the trials and tribulations of her day. For the first time since his childhood, Guy found himself being truly thankful to God for what he had: not only life, but also love, something that he had, up until so comparatively recently, believed himself to be incapable of obtaining. He found it strange how one had to have been so close to death to truly appreciate what one had in life.

"I'll make some more for you," said Djaq, picking up the empty beaker.

"No, thank you. I want to stay awake for a while."

Djaq nodded and left the room. Once he had heard her footsteps retreating, Guy gingerly shifted his position until he had one arm around Marian, pulling her closer into his side and bringing the hand that had held his over his chest in a pseudo-embrace. He felt somewhat safer like that, Marian protecting his heart so to speak. She stirred as a result of his movement, giving an incoherent mumble, but she did not wake.

Guy closed his eyes, thinking about the events of the day, feeling the cool sheets against his bare skin and the pain from his abdomen, which had since subsided into a dull throb. He couldn't tell what Djaq had put beneath the dressings to aid the healing, but whatever it was had a welcome, numbing effect. He didn't know how long he lay in the companionable silence of the night, falling through his thoughts. The events of the morning seemed to be a lifetime away, yet he could still remember flashes of them vividly. Marian's earlier question returned to him, but he had no idea how he was going to answer it, mostly because a small part of him longed to return to England once the King had restored order. He knew that Marian, despite their wonderfully uncomplicated life in Acre, also held the desire to go home to her birthplace. They never really talked about England much, perhaps due to an unspoken agreement that their past should remain in the past, but Guy could tell that there were times when Nottingham needed to be discussed, but neither of them had courage enough to raise the issue. Unfortunately, thought Guy bitterly, it was extremely doubtful that he, who had tried to kill the King twice and had played a major part in conspiring against him, would be welcomed back with open arms. Guy could trust the Sheriff to spill all the secrets of the Black Knights and Shah Maht under pressure. He had never been a particularly strong man, relying on his acid tongue and sheer authority to keep him safe in his position. His lieutenant had always been his weapon.

Presently, Guy became very aware of a presence in the room that was not the one slumbering beside him. A shadowy figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the light creeping in from the rest of the house.

"Djaq?" he asked warily, knowing already that the reply would be in the negative. The figure moved towards the bed, stepping into the shaft of moonlight that fought its way beneath the shutters, revealing Robin's face. For a few seconds, Guy could feel his blood run cold in fear. He would never usually be afraid of the other man, but now he was at his most vulnerable. All he could hope was that Robin had morals enough not to kill an unarmed, already-wounded man.

"Come to finish what you started?" he asked of the unwelcome visitor, a harsh tone masking his pounding heart.

Robin shook his head, but he didn't say anything, instead advancing further towards them and surveying Marian's sleeping form.

"I'm sorry," said Guy eventually.

"Why are you sorry?" asked Robin. "I stabbed you. I should be the one apologising."

"I stole your lady."

"She chose you. She is free-spirited enough to make her own decisions and to know her own heart. No one can force her to do anything she doesn't want to."

"That's certainly true."

They laughed in spite of themselves. It seemed sacrilege for two such bitter enemies to find a common understanding. It seemed even worse that the understanding stemmed from what had, ostensibly, turned them into enemies in the first place: the love of one woman.

Guy allowed himself to relax slightly, but he could not ignore the many words hanging unsaid in the air between him and Robin.

"You betrayed England," said Robin presently, although it was not said with as much malice as Guy had expected. It was a frank statement, one that he could not deny.

"I know."

There was a long pause.

"Why did you do it?"

"Because I thought that it would bring me the things I thought I wanted."

"Go on."

"There's not much more to say. I thought it would bring me power and position, but it didn't, and it certainly won't now that the King is returning to England unscathed. Then I realised that it didn't matter whether I had the things I'd wanted at first, as long as I had…"

He didn't finish the sentence, but Robin knew how it ended anyway. He also knew that he had to accept that Marian had made her choice. She hadn't chosen him. There was no use in trying to change her mind, for he had nothing left in his arsenal with which to persuade her. If she could still love Gisborne after knowing of his betrayals and murders, then there was nothing Robin could use against him to alter her opinion. Robin loved Marian, and that would never change. Now he knew that because of this love, he had to let her go, let her be free.

"She chose you," he repeated softly. "I can accept that now." He sighed. "Make sure you make her as happy as I wanted to."

Guy nodded his thanks and nothing more was said. Nothing more needed to be said. Robin made to exit the room and find his gang in the rest of the house, but before he could leave he heard Marian's voice.

"Thank you," she said sleepily, turning slightly in Guy's arms to face him.

"How long have you been awake?" Robin asked her, half in annoyance and half in disbelief. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough," she replied. "Thank you for understanding. We don't have to be enemies because of this though, do we?"

Robin smiled and shook his head. He took a last, lingering look at the love he could no longer call his own, and let go…

* * *

_A/N:_ Guy's survived and Robin's let Marian go… Seems the perfect place to end, but there's more to come, for nothing's ever really what it seems… 

Keep reading and reviewing please!


	9. Confusion

_A/N:_ Before I begin I want to say thank you to all my reviewers cos this has had the most reviews and hits of all my fics. _(Gives cookies as token of appreciation.) _On with the show!

_Chapter Nine_

_Confusion_

With the dawn of the new day came the dawn of a new stage of his life for Robin. He felt a sort of grief, but it was not the same as the powerful, all-consuming grief that he had felt when he thought he had first lost Marian. Perhaps it was because this time he had made the conscious decision to let her go, rather than having her suddenly and unceremoniously severed from him.

The other outlaws, especially Much, were glad that his melancholy madness had dissipated and he was as normal as they could have hoped for in the circumstances. None of them knew what, if anything, had passed between Robin, Marian and Guy during the night and none of them believed that they would ever know, but they all realised that it had been a definite turning point.

Almost a full day's worth of sleep had left Guy's state of health much improved, but Marian would not let him try to get up.

"Two years ago I stabbed you in the stomach and you nearly died, yet you were completely fit within a week for our farce of a wedding," he argued. "The wedding at which you hit me in the face and rode off into the horizon on the back of an outlaw's horse."

"That's because all I did for that week was to lie down and sleep! I wouldn't have been able to do it if I'd been rushing around the moment I recovered." At that moment Djaq entered with some more of her sleeping draught, stopping any further conversation on the subject.

"Are you going to drink this or must I force it down your throat?" Marian asked, smiling despite her serious question. She could do nothing to stop her happiness from showing today. Guy's imminent recovery and her final release from Robin had lifted such a weight off her shoulders that she felt wonderful. To put the icing on the cake, there was peace in the area at last.

Guy accepted the liquid, still grumbling as he did so.

"Why are you making such a fuss?" he asked with a yawn, fighting off the effects for as long as he could. "You sound like my mother."

He didn't notice Marian jump at the final word…

XXX

It was late afternoon and Much was at a loss. He was wandering around the market looking for something with which he could fill his time until someone, anyone, decided upon their next course of action. Will, John, Allan and Much seemed to be living with no purpose, in a kind of limbo. Robin was contemplating as usual, and it didn't seem as if he was going to spur them into action any time soon. Djaq had a new patient, who had turned out not to be a Marian-murdering traitor. The King was quite safe and indeed England was going to be safe as soon as the King returned. The Sheriff would be executed for treason. Prince John would be deposed. Nottingham would get a new Sheriff who would treat the poor well.

_Hang on, _thought Much. _The Sheriff!_

The Sheriff was going to kill the King as soon as he returned to England. Much was sure of it. He began to run across the square back to Bassam's house to alert Robin and make preparations for their return, but then he stopped short. What had happened the last time that they had followed a hunch? They'd followed it all the way out to the Holy Land and nearly turned Robin into a cold-blooded murderer in the process.

_The Sheriff's more dangerous than Gisborne… Robin did say that he was plotting something…But Robin's been spectacularly wrong before… We can't jump to conclusions… But the King could be in danger!_

Much sat down heavily on the sand with a howl of indignation. He had absolutely no idea what he should do next.

"It's getting to you as well," said Allan, coming up behind him. "The vast expanses of white. All you can see in every direction is white. The forest might have been colder but at least it was colourful." He sat down next to Much. "That's why I spend so much time in the market. A bit of colour, you know."

Much cast a disbelieving look sideways at his colleague.

"I thought it was because you want to try your luck with some of the traders' daughters," he said.

"Yeah, well, I'm not being funny or anything but I'm something of a rarity. How often do they see handsome Englishmen around here? Well, handsome Englishmen who don't want to kill them and take over their country I mean…"

"Gisborne," interjected Much. "He must be here pretty regularly. And your idea of handsome could be questionable."

Allan ignored the last statement.

"Yeah, but Gisborne's got Marian. He can't have all the market girls as well, that's greedy."

"Allan," sighed Much. "Forget it. They do things differently here."

"Not necessarily. Look at Djaq and Will."

Much groaned and buried his head in his hands, not wanting to get drawn into a theological debate with Allan. Suddenly a noise dragged him from the depths of his despair. A Saracen and an English soldier were making a peace proclamation in the centre of the square. Halfway through, they registered the lack of interest in their announcement and stopped, evidently puzzled.

"You'd think they'd be more interested," said the Englishman.

"No one's taking any notice," agreed his companion. "This is the best news they've had for nearly seven years and they aren't interested."

"They already know," called Allan.

"What?" exclaimed the soldiers in unison.

"We already know about the peace," said Much as he and Allan made their way towards the bewildered men. They both looked utterly confused.

"It was announced yesterday morning. Took us by surprise a bit. A Saracen soldier came riding through the town and yelling that there was peace and that the King was returning to England," added Allan.

"But that's impossible. Completely impossible. The peace was only announced to our regiments a few hours ago. It was only decided last night."

Allan and Much looked at each other.

"I'm not being…" began Allan.

"I know you're not," snapped Much. "How come we heard about it yesterday?"

"I've no idea." The Englishman paused and looked closely at Much. "Wait a minute, I know you."

"I was in the King's guard a few years ago," said Much, a touch bitterly.

"Much, isn't it? You were with your master, Robin of Locksley."

"That's right." Recognition dawned in Much's face as he finally remembered the identity of the man in front of him. "James of Bath!"

"Yes! How have you been keeping these past years? How is England coping in the absence of the King?"

Before Much could regale James with the saga of England's plight, Allan broke in.

"Look, I hate to break up this happy reunion, but we've got to get to the bottom of this." He glanced across at his Saracen counterpart, who was feeling as ignored as he was. "How come we got to hear of peace before it had been decided?" he continued.

"Let's talk to Robin," said Much. "It'll give him something to take his mind off…you-know-what."

"Is there a problem?" asked James.

"It's a very long story," warned Allan. "We'll have had time to sail to England and back again before that one's finished."

James didn't push the subject any further and let Much lead the way into Bassam's house. They were greeted by Robin's enthusiastic welcome. John, Djaq and Will hung back, watching the reunited friends with a somewhat befuddled amusement.

"James of Bath!"

"Robin of Locksley! I haven't seen you for…"

"Yeah, we know," cut in Allan. "There's something strange going on."

"Of course." James regained composure and introduced the other soldier. "This is Ali, my counterpart in Saladin's army."

Ali bowed to them in greeting.

"You are famous in Saladin's army, Robin of Locksley. Your reputation precedes you." Robin looked a little alarmed and Ali laughed. "Don't think that we know nothing of our former adversaries."

"Can we get to the point?" asked Allan impatiently. "Robin, we had news of peace yesterday morning, right?"

"I can't really remember. I had just stabbed Gisborne at the time."

It was Ali's turn to look alarmed.

"But these two say that peace was only decided during last night and people weren't told about it until much later," continued Allan, unperturbed.

"What's happening?" asked Marian entering the room. "I thought I heard strangers."

After the necessary introductions and explanations had been imparted for a third time, they settled once more to discussing the matter at hand.

"Perhaps," suggested James, "he was only saying that there _might_ be peace soon. There have been rumours of it for a while."

"Bassam did say that there was going to be a turning point in the war," admitted Much.

"No, he definitely said that we had peace and that the King was returning to England," said Allan stubbornly.

"There's something fundamentally wrong with all of this," said James. "If I didn't know better then I'd say that there was something sinister afoot. A plot of some sorts."

At the word 'plot', Robin's face lit up.

"There is a plot. The Sheriff of Nottingham is behind it."

"Robin…" began John in a warning tone.

"No, I knew he was planning something! I must admit that I hadn't thought that it would be quite so elaborate a plan, but still…"

"Robin, what are you talking about?" asked Marian.

"When does the next boat to England leave?" he asked.

"Two days," intoned Djaq, "but that doesn't answer the question. Am I right in thinking that you want to catch it?"

"No, you are not. I don't want to catch it at all, but I do want the King to catch it."

"Robin," moaned Allan, and Robin could now detect a note of exasperation in his voice. "Stop talking in code and tell us what's going on!"

"When does the next boat from England dock in Acre port?" he asked, momentarily ignoring Allan.

"One week," said Djaq.

Robin was quiet for a few minutes, piecing the different parts of the mystery together.

"This is the plan," he said eventually. "The Sheriff knows we're here. He sends a messenger through the town telling us that the King's gone home. We get on a boat and rush home to protect the King once he arrives in England, thinking that the Sheriff is going to kill him as soon as he docks. Meanwhile, the Sheriff arrives here in Acre to assassinate the King who is, in fact, still at war."

"Robin, of all the far-fetched plots," John said, but then he was interrupted by another voice.

"I think he's right." They turned to see Guy leaning tentatively in the doorframe.

"I thought I told you to lie down!" Marian began in indignation but Robin silenced her.

"Did you know anything about this?" he asked Guy coldly.

Guy shook his head, his eyes level with Robin's.

"I don't know anything except the way the Sheriff works. It sounds like one of his ideas. He likes deception, making things not as they seem."

Somewhat satisfied, although naturally not completely trusting, Robin turned back to the group.

"So that's the Sheriff's plan, but it's been undermined by the fact that there really is peace and the King really is returning to England. With any luck, he'll have gone before the Sheriff arrives."

"I shall warn his Majesty immediately," said James, leaving the house at a run.

"So," continued Robin. "Are we all prepared to stand up to the Sheriff and protect King and country?" He stared purposefully at Guy. "Including you?"

"Considering the number of times I've tried to kill him, won't the King be a little dubious about my helping him?" Guy asked snidely.

There was silence in the room as everyone digested the unavoidable fact.

"Maybe," said Allan eventually, not forgetting what Guy had done for him during his brief dalliance with the darker side, "this could be your chance to redeem yourself."

* * *

_Disclaimer:_ As with Saira, Ali and James are random people made up because I needed characters. I felt it was pretty safe having James be Lord of Bath because, since it was founded by the Romans, I figured it was still a town in Medieval times. 

_A/N:_ You know what I'm going to say by now - please review!!

There are only two chapters left. (Well, one chapter and an epilogue if you want to be picky.)


	10. Unity

A/N: I apologise for the long wait, see my profile for the entire sorry story. This chapter is the longest and it is a teensy bit gory on one occasion.

_Chapter Ten_

_Unity_

It was with a slight distaste for the heat and a large sense of anticipation that the Sheriff of Nottingham stepped off the boat from England into the bustling port of Acre. It seemed different to how it had been the first time he'd seen it: livelier, _happier_ almost. The Sheriff didn't stop to question it. He was finally going to bring Shah Maht to a close. He was finally going to kill the King. He'd be rewarded richly when he returned; there was no doubt of that. All the Black Knights talked of killing the King and placing his brother on the throne, after all, that was what their brotherhood had been founded for, but none of them actually had the resource and sheer bravado to go through with it. None of them except him.

A black cloth fluttered in the breeze from one of the market stalls and the Sheriff pondered for a moment the fate of his lieutenant. He had long since given up expecting to see Gisborne return to the castle, tail between his legs and searching for a second chance. He wondered lightly if Gisborne had even survived this long out here in the heat.

_Lovesick puppy. He's probably thrown himself in the sea out of grief. _

It wasn't as if the Sheriff missed Gisborne very much, it was more that his absence irked him somewhat. He no longer had someone he could really trust with his deeds of destruction, or someone to order about, knowing he'd comply with his every request. In short, he no longer had someone whom he could control. He liked being able to control Guy. It made him feel powerful and secure.

The Sheriff felt restless. He wanted to get on with things, but he appreciated that it would be foolish to simply charge into the King's camp with no back up plan and no escape route. He would not only be hopelessly outnumbered but also cut to pieces on the spot. His assault on the King required careful planning, something he didn't particularly like. He much preferred action, especially when he didn't have to get his hands dirty and could be a snug spectator. Not this time though. He was going to get well and truly bloody by the end of this, but it was going to be well worth it. The thought of the prize that awaited him on his triumphant return to England kept the Sheriff smiling as he strode purposefully towards the house of his contact in Acre. Nazim had been an invaluable ally over the last few months, and it was almost a shame that he would have to be silenced once the mission was complete. After all, he would have outlived his usefulness somewhat by the end, and the Sheriff couldn't trust him not to talk if the meddling Hood came interfering in the aftermath of the catastrophe. Then again, once Prince John had become King, the Sheriff would make it his priority to rid himself of Hood once and for all. He had arrived at Nazim's house before he had finished thinking of all the things he was going to do with Hood once he found him…

He knocked on the door twice, and several long moments of still silence followed before the door eventually opened.

"You took your time," snapped the Sheriff as he entered the gloomy building. "It doesn't pay for me to be kept waiting you know."

"I know."

The Sheriff turned at the all too familiar voice. The person who had opened the door and now stood unravelling the scarf from round his neck was not Nazim, but Robin Hood.

"You…" hissed the Sheriff.

"Me," agreed Robin. "And all my men."

The Sheriff didn't want to turn round, as he knew that he was going to see the other outlaws emerging from the various doorways of the house, but he felt compelled to do so in an almost dreamlike manner. Sure enough, they were all there, even…

"You're dead!" exclaimed the Sheriff upon seeing Marian.

"Sorry," she replied, shrugging her shoulders. "No such luck."

"Damn you! Damn the lot of you! Where's Nazim?"

"Oh, we've got someone special looking after him," said Robin with a smirk. Scuffling sounds came form along the corridor and Nazim was thrust roughly into the circle of outlaws to the Sheriff's feet.

"My Lord…" he began, stumbling over his words. "I was betrayed… a friend of a friend… he told Saladin's official pigeon handler…" The Sheriff could not articulate words to express his anger, instead taking out his knife and advancing towards Nazim, who clutched his throat and scrambled backwards.

"Now now," came another awfully familiar voice, the owner of which had followed Nazim into the entrance hall and presently pulled the other man back to safety. "There are ladies present." The voice added something in a whisper to Nazim, who wasted no time in wriggling free and running from the hall. The Sheriff looked up to see his former lieutenant among his ambushers.

"Gisborne," he began, a little surprised and indeed shocked at this revelation.

Guy nodded.

"I bet you never thought you'd see me again," he said.

"Tell me you're not working with them," said the Sheriff in a slightly strangled voice.

"Sorry," said Guy flippantly.

"But after everything I've done? I was like a father to you Gisborne and now you're betraying me? You've been reliant on me since your pathetic family lost their land in shame and now this?" The Sheriff's voice was rising with every word and he made towards Guy with the knife, but he was easily overpowered by Guy's height and sheer rage at the slur on his late father. "Almost your whole life, you've been dependent on me!" hissed the Sheriff as he picked himself off the ground where Guy had bodily thrown him.

"I have a new life, _my Lord_," Guy spat. "And you are no longer a part of it." He curved his arm around Marian, his hand coming to rest on her stomach where their child grew safely beneath.

It was such an ironic role reversal; all the gathered party could see that. In England, it had always been the Sheriff with the emotional and mental control, teasing, taunting, and keeping Guy under the thumb with his inherent dependency. Now that relationship had been turned on its head, with Guy the only thing that stood between the Sheriff and the outlaws. For a few moments, nothing was said; fallen lord and freed lieutenant regarding each other in the same way Guy and Robin had done on that fateful morning at the armoury, the atmosphere silent and yet screaming with the unexpressed wrath that was so apparent in their eyes, anger at betrayal and anger at belittling meeting and clashing fiercely in the air.

"Kill me," said the Sheriff, looking around the group and eying the vast variety of weapons to hand.

"No," said Robin softly.

"How could I forget?" sneered the Sheriff. "Hood, ever the humanitarian." He laughed cruelly.

"No," repeated Robin, although this time his voice was forceful. "We're taking you back to Nottingham where you can die like a traitor should, along with the rest of the Black Knights."

"Hung, drawn and quartered," added Much vehemently.

They had all expected what happened after. They all knew the Sheriff too well to believe that he would truly give in so easily. As Guy had said, he was fond of deception. He had been edging back towards the knife that Guy had thrown away from him, and presently he picked it up, yanking Marian out of Guy's arms and bringing the blade to her throat.

"Seems your new life's over before it's begun, Gisborne," he snarled, and pressed the cold steel against Marian's throat for a few seconds before moving it to her abdomen. "Or perhaps I should reserve such a description for your child?"

"Hostage taking already?" taunted Robin, seemingly unperturbed by Marian's precarious position. "You haven't even asked us why we're here and not on a boat rushing to protect the King from you in England."

"The thought had crossed my mind," he snapped.

"Well, unfortunately for your plan, the King actually has made peace…"

It didn't take much of her unforgotten skill for Marian to free herself from the clutches of the dazed Sheriff. As she pushed him to the ground, hitting his head and sending him slowly drifting into unconsciousness, he realised that the outlaws had bested him for the final time.

"_I don't think we need to say anymore."_

He heard Robin's words and the outlaws starting to make preparations to leave. Through the thick mist of enforced sleep, he could make out Guy's voice talking to him.

_"They say that the last thing a traitor to the Crown sees is the final beat of his own heart as it gets drawn out. It seems you're going to be the one to prove them right or wrong, not me."_

The Sheriff recognised the words. He'd threatened Guy with them before, as a warning should his assassination attempts be traced. His once-trustworthy Master at Arms had truly turned against him…

XXX

Guy and Marian felt an odd sense of homecoming as the boat came into sight of the green land they hadn't beheld for almost a year. As far as they could see, it hadn't changed much, but then looks could be deceiving. How much had they changed in themselves during that time, and what difference had it made to their outward appearance save the fact that one could no longer deny that Marian was with child?

"Home sweet home," she breathed. "It's good to be back, but I shall miss the friends we made in Acre. Bassam and Saira, and everyone else who helped us."

Guy kissed her cheek briefly, for they both knew that they were being watched. Robin had been remarkably tactful during the trip in leaving them alone together, but now he couldn't help but stand in the shadows, wondering what his life would be like if he held Guy's position.

"We're about to dock," said John, coming up onto the deck and standing beside Robin, breathing in the fresh sea air. He followed the younger man's eye to the couple. "Please let's move. I've got Will and Djaq at the other end of the boat unable to take their eyes off each other." Robin laughed, perhaps the first genuine and hearty laugh that he had experienced in a long time. His life was coming together again.

They felt the boat bump against the dockside and went below to collect their belongings and be met by royalty…

XXX

"Robin," said King Richard, greeting his ex-soldier and twice-saviour warmly. Robin bowed in reply.

"Your Majesty."

"Please, Robin, it is I who should be bowing to you after all that you have done for me."

The other outlaws, then Guy and Marian followed Robin in leaving the ship and paying their respects to their monarch.

"I believe that thanks are all in order," said Richard. "But words, however courteous, are of no practical use to anyone. Honour and glory will not buy bread." He looked at the outlaws. "You will all receive full pardons and a certain…financial reward. Except Much…" (Here Much looked outraged but knew better than to say anything.) "… to whom I remember bequeathing the seat at Bonchurch. It shall be yours. Djaq, Safiyah, whichever name you now choose to go by, you shall gain the rights of any English woman and you may enter or leave this land as you please. I have never really had the chance to thank you for your medical attention when I was attacked in Acre all that time ago."

"Thank you, your Majesty," said Djaq, sounding quite taken aback. "I am most grateful."

Richard turned to Marian.

"Lady Marian… Lady Gisborne," he corrected himself. "You are no outlaw and you already have fortune, yet you have also played your part in my rescue. If you want something that is within my power to give, I shall promise it to you. Is there anything I can offer?"

"There is only one thing I shall request of you, your Majesty, and that is your lenience with Guy."

"I was coming to him next…"

A soft moan escaped Guy's lips. He had not been looking forward to this conversation at all.

"To speak plainly, Gisborne, I don't know whether to thank you or throw in the dungeons to rot with Vaizey. However, it appears that all your Lady wishes is for you to remain in tact by her side, and I must keep my promise to give her what she wishes if it is in my power. Your past crimes shall be... forgotten, however reluctantly. I am correct in thinking that you have no land to your name?"

"Yes. My father was dispossessed..." Guy tailed off, not wanting to travel that particular road. "I had been occupying Locksley but it belongs by rights to Robin."

"You shall keep Locksley," said Richard eventually. "Consider it a wedding present to you both."

Guy's thanks were lost in the unimaginable uproar from Robin and the outlaws at this decision. No full sentences could be heard, only vague words and snippets expressing their pure anger and disbelief at Robin's mistreatment in the matter.

"Silence!" roared Richard. "This is no way to behave in front of your king! Besides, I don't believe I have finished. Robin, it may seem an injustice but I have another planned path for you. It appears that I shall be requiring a new Sheriff of Nottingham..."

Even Much was speechless.

"If you wish to decline the post, you may of course do so and naturally further arrangements will be made."

"N-n-no, I accept," Robin managed eventually. "Thank you, your Majesty."

"I'm not being funny or anything," said Allan, after a few moments of awkward silence had passed, "but shouldn't we toast the occasion? The freedom and the pardons and the new Sheriff and everything? I mean, we haven't got any ale or wine but…"

"Don't worry," laughed Will, patting his friend on the shoulder. "We understand."

Will began their 'toast' and everyone followed, the echo rumbling around the Portsmouth dockside.

"Long live King Richard, and long live Robin, Sheriff of Nottingham."

* * *

_A/N:_ As always, Nazim is just a random fella.

Come on, I couldn't not have a happy ending, not when everyone was nicely friends again! There is still an epilogue to come.

Feedback would be most appreciated, especially on the point of Marian's pregancy. I introduced it last chapter but I fear the hint was too subtle and it was a bit of a sudden revelation this chapter.

I think that's it. I'll stop gabbling and leave you to get on with reviewing. (Hint.)


	11. Happiness

_A/N:_ Warning. This chapter is full of irretrievably fluffy fluff. Don't say I didn't warn you.

_Epilogue_

_Happiness_

Robin was still waiting to wake up in the forest, or at the very least on a reed mat in Bassam's living room. He still couldn't quite believe what had happened in the past few weeks, but he was beginning to accept that his new position was indeed reality. Allan had laughed and warned him not to let the power go to his head, but Robin had no intention of doing so. He understood the role of the Sheriff better than Vaizey had. He was there to help and guide the villagers, not simply to tax them into early graves. There were of course downsides to his office – death and taxes were unavoidable; there were laws to be enforced and punishments to be inflicted upon those who broke them. Robin accepted that, and he had grown to think that there were perhaps ways in which he could work with the restrictions, rather than be confined by them. One of his first acts as Sheriff had been to order the removal of the permanent scaffold in the courtyard that had served as a grim reminder of the fates of those who had crossed Vaizey, the last man to be hung there. Robin was content with his fortune. He may have lost the love of Marian, but he had the love of an entire shire to gain.

XXX

Much knocked on the door of the small cottage in a village north of Nottingham with a slight apprehension, hoping fervently that he'd got the right house. He'd spent many days tracing and searching, and now his efforts had finally borne fruit. Eventually the door opened and the house's occupant stood staring out at him, shocked into silence by the sight of the man on her doorstep.

"Lord Much," she breathed.

"Eve," he replied softly. She was exactly as he had remembered her, from her long, rich blonde hair and bright eyes down to her slightly crooked smile.

"What brings you to this village?" she asked, regaining her tongue fully.

"I have returned to Bonchurch," Much began nervously. "For good this time. And I was wondering if you would…"

"I would be happy to return as your maid, my Lord," said Eve.

"I would not like you to return as my maid," said Much, the hurt look in her eyes providing him with the momentum he needed to continue. "I'd far rather that you returned as my wife."

Much later reflected that he had not been hugged so hard in his entire life.

XXX

Being a woman, thought Djaq, was interesting. She hadn't worn a skirt on a regular basis for longer than she cared to remember, and she was still getting used to the fact that she didn't need to be a man to survive anymore. Sometimes she found that she missed those days, that renouncing her femininity had given her more freedom. But most of the time, she was just happy that she had Will and that they were safe together.

There were so many simple things about life in England that Djaq was only just discovering – sleeping within four walls and with a thatched roof over her head for example. It wasn't a slur on Will's craftsmanship, their lodging in the forest had been perfectly snug, but her new life was just so different to the one that she'd known before.

Their second visit to the Holy Land seemed like a far-away adventure. Sometimes she couldn't believe that it had even happened, but she was always glad that her and Marian's plotting had turned out for the best.

XXX

John knew that he'd found a good thing in life as soon as he had seen the old forge just outside Nettlestone. He had set himself up as a blacksmith with the money he'd received from the King, and he was finally able to channel his strength into something useful and productive, rather than just being the muscle of a band of outlaws. John couldn't really say that he sorely missed the forest life. He was not, by nature, the most social of creatures: a lot of the time his thoughts were company enough. However, it was those thoughts that had led him to track down his family. He knew that it was over between him and Alice. She had a new life and love now, and he didn't want to intrude upon that and cause her more pain than he had done already, but he had hoped that Little John would visit him.

John would never give up hope, but it had been a long time since he'd made his first visit…

Presently John's ears pricked up at the sound of a pony trap coming up the lane towards him. Little John was sitting up alongside the carter, grinning from ear to ear, and John felt happiness roar inside him.

XXX

Guy found it odd to be sitting in the Council of Nobles as a legitimate noble. Before he had only attended in his capacity as the Sheriff's lieutenant who had happened to control a bit of land. But now, he had no military duties and the only time he saw the inside of Nottingham castle was at this weekly Council. Heads had turned upon his return to Locksley with Marian in tow, and rumours of what had occurred in his absence were both rife and, occasionally, far-fetched. However much distaste the villagers had held for him before his departure, they were definitely glad that they had a permanent Lord once more, instead of occasional tax collectors and messengers from the Sheriff attempting to bring order.

As he had intimated to Robin that night so many weeks ago, Guy's priorities and desires had changed. He was no longer trying desperately to climb the ladders of position for the power that he had formerly craved. Now he worked to gain the respect of the village that was, officially, his. It was ironic that in willingly giving up his quest for power he had received so much. The villagers were gradually warming to him in the wake of Robin's installation as Sheriff, but Guy's deepest desire however, was simply to be able to keep the happiness that Marian and his fledgling family had brought him.

XXX

Will had planned to follow in the family trade and set himself up as a carpenter once he had settled back into normal village life. He and Djaq had moved into the old Scarlet house in Locksley, although Will had insisted that one day he was going to build them a much larger one on the outskirts of Nottingham. Djaq said that she had every faith in him, but he could tell that she didn't think the house would materialise any time soon.

Will had begun as a carpenter again, but over the weeks he found himself getting bored of making chests and caskets. He felt that something was holding him back in life. Allan, on one of his many visits to 'catch up with old friends' (and sample Djaq's cooking), had joked that Will should make a sign saying 'no chests, interesting projects only'.

It was at that point that Will realised what was holding him back. He asked Djaq, a touch sheepishly, if she would teach him to read and write. Will had enjoyed becoming literate, and when he finally did write a sign saying 'no chests', he felt happy that he had definitely achieved something worthwhile.

XXX

Allan had no idea what he was going to do with his life now that he had a small fortune of the King's gold to his name and he wasn't wanted for many various crimes. He supposed he'd do what he'd always done before being outlawed: travel around, living on the edge of the law. Robin had said that he could turn a blind eye to some of Allan's less than legal activities, but he was warning him in advance should he choose to do anything drastic. Allan had told Robin not to let the power go to his head, but he could understand the warning. He knew he couldn't go on living in that way. He travelled around between all his old friends, trying to gain some sort of useful advice that would help him find a purpose. John said that one day he'd find The One, and purpose would suddenly present itself. Allan didn't really believe him, but he had nevertheless found himself a permanent residence in an attempt to appear outwardly respectable, although it was a long time before he told anyone, not wanting to damage his reputation as a man of an altogether transient nature.

One day, though, Allan found his purpose, and he wondered why he had ever doubted John.

XXX

Marian gazed down at the tiny fingers clasped around her own, her son's grip so tight even in sleep. She found herself thinking of the day he had come into the world two weeks previously with a shiver. It had not been an easy labour and she almost had herself convinced that she was going to die. But Matilda's hearty words of encouragement and Guy's slightly softer ones of reassurance had seen her through and now both mother and baby were doing well. She pushed the memories to the corners of her mind and travelled further back.

_"It's going to be a boy," she said to Guy one evening as they sat watching the fire flickering together._

"_How can you tell?"_

"_I just can."_

"_Well, if you're sure… What name will you give our son?"_

_Marian didn't need time to think._

"_Edward. For my father."_

"_Good choice."_

_There was silence for a while before Guy spoke again. _

"_And if nature proves you wrong and graces us with a daughter?"_

"_Hmm… You choose."_

"_Beth," he replied without hesitation._

_Marian didn't ask why. She could tell from his tone that he it was something he did not want to disclose. They had shared a lot of their secrets in their time together, but she understood that there were some too raw to share straight away..._

As events had unfolded, however, so Marian had been right, and so Edward had become the newest addition to their family.

Presently Marian felt a hand on her shoulder, gently bringing her back from her daydream.

"Good evening," she said. "You've been a long time."

"The Council ran on a bit. There's one thing you can't deny about Robin as Sheriff, he's certainly thorough."

Marian laughed and stood from her position watching over the cradle, stepping into Guy's arms and accepting his kiss.

"I love you," he mumbled against her lips.

"I love you too," she replied, and smiled inside. As long as she had her husband and her child she could not have been happier...

* * *

_A/N:_ Nice big chink of GuyxMarian to finish with. After all, this was a GxM romance, however odd. What did you think of it in its entirety? I did warn you this last chapter was fluffy... 

_PS:_ There are so many different spellings of Vaizey; I went with the one that seemed natural to me.

_PPS:_ I feel quite strange now that this epic saga has finished. It dominated my life for almost two months and now it's done. It started out as a one-shot and now look at it... This is the longest fic I have ever written, period, and now I feel a bit sad that it's over. I am, however, in the process of writing/ attempting to write a modernised version of RH, set in and around a (fairly corrupt) police station. (because I really can't get the idea of the gang as teenagers into my head and I don't want to be accused of jumping on that particular band wagon.) I'm having great fun transposing the episodes into a modern setting, so will you please say (gently), whether or not you'd be interested in seeing it?

I'm going to stop now else the author's notes will be longer than the story. Please review!


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